


Blood of a Dead Man Risen

by JanecShannon



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Blood, Canon-Typical Violence, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, I'm looking at you Loki, Kidnapping is not how you make friends, Loki - Stab Enthusiast, M/M, Phlebotomy is just stabbing on a smaller scale, cursing, the Avengers are a family
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-29
Updated: 2019-07-11
Packaged: 2019-12-26 12:33:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 10,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18282467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JanecShannon/pseuds/JanecShannon
Summary: Loki uses Tony's blood in a spell but it has unexpected side effects.Now Loki's curiosity is piqued and Tony may never get a moment's peace again.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story is based on a prompt-ish discussion between [SalamanderInk](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrysallydOnCarMINeWilloW/pseuds/SalamanderInk), AlwaysWithEntropy, and I on the FrostIron discord. 
> 
> Beta'ed by SalamanderInk and [dendriteblues](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dendrite_blues).
> 
> Please check the end for the warning on this chapter.

Loki pants as he scrambles for the ingredients he needs. He leaves smears of blood over the cupboards and jars as he knocks things out of the way. Where is it? Where  _ is _ it? He knows he'd collected a sample of every one of the Avengers blood for this exact purpose. 

Finally, he finds the set of vials. Stark's is nearly empty, the hard won drops of bright red sit at the bottom like precious jewels. 

Precious, life-saving jewels.

He wraps a towel around the singed edge where his two missing fingers and part of his right hand would have been. Uses another to clean as much of his own blood as he can so he doesn't contaminate the spell. 

If he gets this right, it won't give him his fingers back, but it should stop the bleeding and fix the hole in his chest. He needs to hurry though. He's starting to taste blood in the back of his throat. 

Damn Thor. Damn him to Hel. 

If he hadn't been trying to  _ save _ him, if he hadn't super charged Stark's suit with lightning, if he hadn't tried to shove him out of the way of the blast, Stark's aim wouldn't have been a fatal hit and Loki would still have his fingers and his  _ Norn's forsaken _ left lung. 

He coughs blood into the quickly reddening towel wrapped around his right hand as he recites the healing spell. He has to clumsily add ingredients with his left but he manages. 

Then finally,  _ finally _ , he feels the seidr begin to creep into him an he lets himself fall to the floor. 

He feels it work and he consoles himself over the loss of his fingers and working lung with future plans. 

He will still need time to heal and adjust. The spell can only heal the damage done by the blood of the one provided, so the wounds from the other Avengers will need to heal the old fashioned way. He will need to adjust his grip, to find a way to wield his daggers with the missing fingers. 

He passes out on the floor with plots of revenge dancing through his head. 

* * *

When Loki wakes, he finds breathing easier than expected with only one lung. His hand no longer hurts, though he can't quite bring himself to unwrap the bloody cloth to look at it. He will have four thousand years to live with it, he decides to give himself a few more minutes without the sight burned into his brain. 

He cannot avoid it forever though. His armor is likely ruined and now sits on him uncomfortably covered in his own dried blood. He needs to wash. To change. Find ways to repair what he can and replace what he can't. 

It is as Loki climbs to his feet that he notices the first oddity from the outcome of the spell. 

It was Stark's blood he had used so only Stark's damage should have been healed. And yet... as he rises to his feet he feels no bruising or aches from the battle, even though he knows others besides Stark had landed hits. The skin on his back doesn't pull where it incorrectly healed during his time in the Void. The knee that he twisted as a child sends no twinge of strain. 

With cautious hope, he stares at the bloody towel around his hand. He tries to move fingers he should no longer have and gets sensory feedback that should be impossible. 

Loki holds his breath as he unwraps the towel. 

He clutches his hand to his chest with a sob when he finds five fingers, fresh and whole.

* * *

The relief does not last forever though, curiosity wins out in the end. 

After he showers and changes he comes back to study the spell he had cast. He has not needed it many times before. It is old magic and useful only if he'd planned ahead and collected the blood of the one who hurt him (or more often than not, managed to collect their blood  _ as _ they were hurting him). But even so, he is familiar enough with it to have cast it correct while desperate. 

He had cast the healing spell correctly, he is sure of that. 

So the question is, how did it end up so much more powerful? 

* * *

It doesn't take much for Loki to dismiss most of the ingredients used in the spell. He's used them in others and seen no odd effects. That really only leaves two variables. His desperation and the blood of Stark. 

Desperation is... possible. He can admit to himself he was very close to death, and desperate not to be without his fingers if he did live. It had been a particularly close call, even for him. 

There is no real way to test that theory without getting that desperate again however so he dismisses the possibility for the time being. 

That really only leaves him with some oddity of Stark's blood. 

He needs more but it had been difficult to get those precious few drops. He knows Stark bleeds but his armor keeps most of it contained. The one thing to reliably both make him bleed and break the armor enough to let the blood out is when Stark is thrown into buildings. This particular tactic is, unfortunately, very dusty and grimy; leaving very few drops of blood uncontaminated. 

It was a frustrating treasure hunt.

He'll have to make do though. It would be best for no one to realize he collected any samples at all, regardless of their intended use. 

* * *

In Loki's defense, he didn't _intentionally_ fake his death this time. It's not his fault the last anyone saw of him was fatally wounded and bleeding out before he caught scent of a mystery that needed solving and he decided going about solving that was more fun than irritating Thor and his friends. 

Suddenly though, Thor is wearing black again. Stark looks surprisingly haggard, which is odd but Loki assumes that it’s more to do with self-blame than actual concern for his well being. 

He wonders if he can take advantage of that blame to acquire another sample. Stark is an interesting enemy, the kind with a most singular set of morals and honor that seem to be known only to him. If Loki were to appear before him, as Stark would expect to see him now, barely able to breathe and missing fingers from his dominant hand... If Loki were to tell him that he could heal himself with a bit of blood from the one who did the damage... 

Loki thinks Stark is the sort of man who would give him what he needed to heal. 

(He need never know the healing had already been done). 

The trouble with this plan comes in when he actually tries to shift his hand to reflect the expected damage. His brain whites out with horror and all he can remember is  _ PainAbsenseHorrorPain _ and he has to remove the illusion before the band around his chest kills him. 

Manipulating Stark (or anyone) using that method is quickly dismissed for literally any other method he can think of. 

He just has to think of it. 

* * *

Stark eventually makes a mistake. On the one hand, it pleases Loki because the sample of blood he is able to sneak in and acquire after the battle is rather sizable and should be very helpful for his tests. On the other hand, the sample is  _ rather sizable _ (he's able to fill a vial nearly halfway with the uncontaminated blood) and this is a foe that should not have given Stark this much trouble. 

It is disconcerting. 

It is  _ only _ because of the mystery of Stark's blood that Loki finds himself sneaking into his hospital room while Stark sleeps. Purely to ensure Stark doesn't manage to expire before Loki solves his mystery, Stark is contrary like that. 

He is, of course, surprised to find the man awake, though clearly out of it. 

“I di'n’ m'n t’ kill you,” Stark slurs at him. Loki frowns, his Notice-Me-Not spell is still in place. Stark should not see him. 

“You would be the first,” Loki replies absently as he reads through the chart at the end of the bed. He is not a healer and most of the terms and abbreviations are Midgardian, but from what he can tell Stark has not managed to injure himself too badly. 

“W’s aim'n’ f'r ‘mora,” Stark tells him, staring at the ceiling. 

“What?” Loki asks, might as well get what information he can while Stark is feeling chatty (not that Stark is ever  _ not _ chatty, really, it's just most of the time he talks without saying anything useful).

“Had,” he waves a hand, clearly trying to indicate  _ something _ though Norn's only know what that could be. 

“She had a vague hand wave? That's  _ very _ useful to me, Stark. Good job.”

The man on the bed huffs a laugh. His eyes are staying closed longer with each blink, they must have given him the pain medication just before Loki had arrived.

“What did she have?”

“Thing,” Stark says without opening his eyes. “Shooty.”

“You are as useful to me right now as a glass hammer,” Loki tells him with a sigh. “Go to sleep, Stark.”

“M'kay.”

* * *

Loki decides to deal with Amora later. Theirs is not a relationship built on trust and, though it may not have been his original plan for the realms to think him dead, he decides it's best for them to continue doing so for the time being. 

Now to test the blood. 

The easiest way is, perhaps, a bit unpleasant but nothing he hasn't done for his craft before. He summons his sharpest dagger and slices it deeply across the back of his forearm. 

If there is nothing special about Stark's blood, casting the spell again will do nothing because this damage was not caused Stark. 

If Stark's blood is special, if the effect is repeatable, then this wound will be healed. 

Loki lays out the ingredients again. He is careful, he recites the words clearly (no choking on his own blood this time), dipping the dropper in and adding one, two drops. 

The seidr crawls over him. 

The wound closes. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Warnings:** In this chapter, there is one scene where Loki cuts his own arm with a dagger. It is purely intended for magical reasons and there is no _intended_ association to self-harm.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second chapter! Yaay! 
> 
> This chapter was beta'ed by [dendriteblues](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dendrite_blues).  
> Chapter one has been edited so it should be a bit smoother now. No big changes there. Just smoothing.

At first, Tony thinks he dreamed the hospital visit. He was pretty high on the good stuff at the time and, well, everyone is pretty sure Loki is dead. So there's no way he could have been in Tony's hospital room in the middle of the night. The tapes show nothing, not even Tony talking to himself. 

But Tony starts to feel like he's being watched. Not the sort of watching he always gets when he's out in public, but a creeping sensation up his neck that make the hairs stand on end. There's never anything there when he scans the room, the windows, the rooftops, the fucking trees. 

He tries to ask Thor if Asgardians produce ghosts or something (not a question he thought he'd ever ask but then again, fucking magic). Thor's response had not been very helpful. It was unclear whether it was impossible because Thor's precious baby brother had died in battle and was therefore Valhalla bound, or because  _ ghosts don't fucking exist _ . 

In the end, Thor's answer had been a definite  _ No _ and what Tony took away from the conversation was that the actual answer was a wobbly  _ Maybe _ .

Either way, there isn't a lot he can do about it because he can't even catch a glimpse of the fucking fucker. 

His next theory is even more outlandish than ghosts but, in his defense, he  _ had _ been skewered by a metal pole. According to JARVIS, the metal pole was found next to him with disturbingly little blood on it considering the size of the hole in his side.  

He made sure to wear the armor when he asked Thor about vampires. 

“Maybe you should just let Thor grieve in peace,” Steve had suggested with a tired sigh after that. 

But Steve didn't  _ get it _ . 

Tony knows Loki. They're cut from the same cloth (hostile takeovers notwithstanding). Technically, yes, an argument could be made that Thor  _ also _ knows Loki, but Tony thinks he's just a bit too close to the situation to see it clearly. 

(He pointedly ignores JARVIS’s comments that his guilt might  _ possibly  _ be clouding his own judgment. It isn't. Tony refuses to feel guilty because Loki  _ isn't dead _ .)

Except.

Another month goes by and there are no tricks from Loki. No animated lamp posts singing in the park. No benches that bite when you sit on them. No frozen harbors in the middle of summer. Nothing. 

With every passing month it gets harder and harder to deny. As unintentional as it had been, Tony had killed him. And he fucked off to die alone, so they can’t even find a body for a burial. 

The best they can hope for is that Loki’s hidey hole was somewhere populated so someone calls it in when his body starts to smell. 

That's the thought that gets Tony to break out the scotch. When he runs out of scotch he moves on to... whatever is in reach. It's clear, so probably vodka but  _ someone _ might be trying to sneak water into him again. 

And that's. That's. That's. 

* * *

“Oh, god. Shoot me now,” Tony groans when he wakes up and tries to bury his head in his pillow. 

“That would rather defeat the purpose of bringing you here.”

Tony's eyes shoot open only to squeeze shut against the piercing light that has decided to dig daggers into his skull. 

“I'm dead then,” he says. “Ugh. Pepper’s going to bring me back to life just so she can kill me again.”

There's a slight delay then Loki asks, “Does she revive you often your... Pepper?”

“I'm not talking to you until you close the curtains,” Tony grumbles. There's only a thirty-six percent chance it's going to get him killed but honestly with this hangover Loki would probably be doing him a favor. Tony mutters complaints under his breath and feels around for a pillow to throw over his head. There isn’t one, but it was a nice thought. 

He's actually surprised when the bright light burning against the back of his eyelids darkens. 

“Is that satisfactory?” Loki asks with an irritated click of his tongue. 

Cautiously, Tony peaks one eye open. This time there isn’t instant, agonizing pain, and the room certainly does  _ seem _ darker than before so he slowly opens his eyes all the way. 

Loki is sitting on a comfy chair near the bed with a book in his lap. Not that  _ his lap _ was the first place Tony looked, just that it happened to be eye level with the bed. 

Belatedly, he realizes he’s been staring off into space in the general direction of Loki’s lap while he waited for an answer. 

“Yeah. Uh, Yeah, it’s-” he looks around and realises he’s not in his own bed or bedroom or literally anywhere he recognises. “Where are we?” 

“My apartment.”

“ _ Why? _ ” Tony demands, incredulously. Then, after a moment adds accusingly, “You’re not dead!”

“You have proven yourself disappointingly incapable of keeping yourself alive. I’m afraid I felt the need to intervene,” he tells Tony with a sad shake of his head then returns to his book. 

“Hey. No!” The shooting is doing horrible things for Tony's head but he really can't help himself. Sitting up so he can point an accusing finger at Loki with the right amount of dramatic weight is also unpleasant but it's nothing he hasn't suffered before. He'll live. “Don’t ignore the other _very important_ _points_ I made. You aren’t dead! Thor thought you were dead! I thought _I killed you!_ ”

“Did you?” Loki asks curiously, cocking his head to the side but not even bothering to lift his eyes from the damn book. “Is that what all this is about?” he waves a hand in Tony’s vague direction. 

Anger boils in Tony’s stomach but he holds back from doing or saying anything he might regret later. Tony and Loki had been... friendly-ish before he fucked off and didn’t bother telling anyone he alive. 

“I’m going home,” Tony announces and moves to get out of bed. 

“No,” Loki replies distractedly. “You are not.”

“Uh, yeah. I  _ am _ ,” Tony insists and twists in the bed to get his feet on the floor. He pauses, waiting only long enough to see if that will get any kind of reaction out of the god. 

Loki only turns the page of his book though, so either be doesn't actually care if Tony leaves or he's got some other way of keeping him here. 

Or Loki's relying on the hangover to keep him down which just... Sorry, sweetheart, he had worse hangovers when he was 18. 

He promptly ends up in a pile on the floor next to the bed. Loki, the smug bastard, finally deigns to lean forward in his chair. “That does look so much more comfortable than the bed. I can see why you might prefer it.”

“What did you do to me?” Tony accuses. 

“ _ I _ did nothing,” Loki tells him indignantly. “You, however, downed most of your liquor cabinet. Then, after emptying your stomach in the kitchen sink, you decided walking to the cabinet was too much effort, and set in on a bottle of window cleaner instead. Don't worry, for the duration of your stay here I've acquired these little stickers of a poisoned green face and put them on everything you should not consume. I hear they work  _ wonders _ for toddlers.”

Tony groans and rubs his hand down his face. The skin feels a bit sensitive and prickly. He needs a shower once he manages to stand up. 

“It wasn't window cleaner. It was vodka.”

God, Tony remembered that joke. Almost everyone had lunged for him when they saw him reach under the sink and just start drinking; Clint had literally vaulted the couch. It had taken careful, meticulous planning and JARVIS's watchful eye to make sure he didn't actually drink window cleaner. 

“I was the one who healed the damage. I assure you, it was not vodka.”

“Well, shit,” Tony says. He feels a bit distant from the horror of what could have happened (what  _ should _ have happened, really). “Who the hell goes around filling window cleaner bottles with-”

“Window cleaner?” Loki interrupts with an arched eyebrow. 

“When you put it like that it sounds so reasonable,” Tony grumbles. “Well, thanks for the save, I guess.”

Tony pauses then scrunched up his face. “Why though? You still didn't answer that.”

“I have plans. They require you to be alive. Are you going to get off the floor at some point?” Loki asks with a curious tilt of his head. 

Tony considers it for a moment but the urgency to leave has evaporated since Loki isn't planning on killing him for the foreseeable future. Doesn't even really seem to have plans to hurt him. 

“Nah.”

The carpet here is softer than the floor in his workshop is and he's slept on that plenty of times before. Once more, with feeling. He's mostly asleep when he feels himself being lifted and placed on something much softer. 

Oooh, pillow. He snuggles. 

“You are a ridiculous creature.”

Tony knows. That's why he's so awesome. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta'ed by [dendriteblues](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dendrite_blues).

Loki stares at the man sleeping on his bed, snuggling with his pillow, and tries to ignore the creeping horror at the stupidity of what he's done. 

By the Nine, he had taken an Avenger right out from under the others’ noses. That hadn't been his plan, it hadn't ever been part of his plan, but he  _ needed _ Stark alive, at least until he determines if there is an easier way to source the healing spell ingredient. 

The man had been dying on the floor of his kitchen. Drunk. Collapsed. Vomiting blood and bile. 

He hadn't cleaned any of that up when he'd taken Stark, he'd been in too much of a hurry. He did have the foresight to apply the Notice-Me-Not spell to himself, but Stark had seen through that in his hospital room. Was the construct that lived in his walls also capable of such a feat? 

The intelligent thing to do would be to return Stark to his tower and his friends now that he was no longer in danger of vomiting up his own intestines. Clearly the misadventure with his liquor cabinet had been caused by guilt over being the one to supposedly kill Loki. Now that Loki has proven himself alive and uninjured it is unlikely the event will reoccur. 

It's the  _ intelligent  _ thing to do. 

But. 

_ But.  _

Stark has been been injured in other ways too. It wasn't his own doing that put him in the hospital. A careless mistake, yes, but not so unlike other choices the man has made. Loki has watched Stark take damaging, painful hits for the sake of others (and not always non-combatants). 

The intelligent thing would be to let him go, but if Loki  _ keeps him _ then he can keep Stark alive and in better health than those so-called friends. He and Stark are friendly. Ish. It always seemed like Stark enjoyed their verbal parrying as much Loki himself. 

Everyone always seemed to think Loki needed friends of his own. Stark would be a good friend. 

The intelligent thing is to let him go. 

Loki decides to keep him.

* * *

When Tony wakes, he feels significantly better than the last time. He gets to his feet (and, look at that, he actually stayed on them this time) and decides to poke around when a quick glance tells him the resident God of Mischief isn’t present. 

The first thing he tries is the door. It’s locked, but he finds that for the time being that doesn’t grate at him. He’s curious to see what the deal is with Loki, and he can’t do that if he sneaks away like a thief in the night. 

The windows are similarly locked. A pat down of his pockets, however, finds a glorious little prize. His StarkPhone. 

“Oh, you little treasure, you,” he murmurs encouragingly to the device. “Do you have signal?”

He presses the button to turn the screen on and...

**8 missed calls  
5 text messages**

**_Clint_ **  
_ Yo. What's this shit on your floor? I couldn't see it til I fucking stepped in it. _

**_Clint_ **  
_ Dude there's invisible vomit on your floor. What the hell? _

**_Steve_ **  
_ Hi Tony, There’s blood in your kitchen. I need you to message me back. -Steve _

**_Steve_ **  
_ Tony, We're very concerned and will respond accordingly if you don't get back to us. - Steve _

**_Steve_ **  
_ Tony, We’re looking for you. Contact any of us as soon as you can. -Steve _

Tony’s nose twitches sideways in a sniff as he reads over the texts. He clearly needs to let them know he's not puking his guts up in someone's evil lair. 

**_Tony - > JARVIS_ **  
_ Loki's evil lair is a surprisingly comfortable two bedroom apartment.  _

**_JARVIS_ **  
_ I am unable to trace your location, Sir. Is there any additional information you can provide? Can you, perhaps, attempt to get away? _

**_Tony - > JARVIS _ **  
_ I did actually try the door first.  _

**_JARVIS_ **  
_ How very proactive of you, Sir. _

Tony huffs out a laugh. Oh, the sass on him. 

**_Tony - > JARVIS _ **  
_ Let the others know I'm not dead. Don't be surprised if you don't hear from me. Gotta keep the phone on silent so Loki doesn't realize I have it. He wants something, I'm going to play along til I figure out what. _

**_JARVIS_ **  
_ I advise against this course of action, Sir.  _

**_Tony - > JARVIS _ **  
_ Sorry. Your messages aren't getting through. Silent mode.  _

**_JARVIS_ **  
_ That isn't how silent mode works.  _

**_JARVIS_ **  
_ Sir. _

**_JARVIS_ **  
_ Sir. _

**_JARVIS_ **  
_ I will inform the others your demise has been exaggerated.  _

Tony puts the phone away once he has confirmation that JARVIS will tell the others. He has a lot of poking to do and an unknown amount if time to do it in. 

Unfortunately, it's a pretty standard,  _ boring  _ apartment. It even has bland art on the walls. He's starting to wonder if this is actually Loki's apartment or just some empty staging room he picked and dropped Tony into when he finds dirty dishes in the dishwasher. It's better than Point Break manages on a regular basis. 

Tony just barely keeps from jumping out of his skin when he stands up from the dishwasher and sees Loki himself standing on the other side if the island. 

“Are you satisfied?”

Tony curls his bottom lip into his mouth and runs his tongue over it as he considers. There are a lot of ways he can respond to that and he's tempted, so tempted, to take this conversation down one of those paths just to see what happens. He has questions that need answers though. 

“What am I doing here?” he asks instead. Deal with the potentially life-threatening situation first, Tony. 

“I told you, I need you alive,” Loki tells him. “You were about to be decidedly less so.”

“Yeah how about no,” Tony insists, leaning his elbows on the counter. “What do you need me alive for, Reindeer Games?”

Loki stares at him for a moment before suddenly smiling widely with a small laugh. 

“Stark,” he starts, still smiling. 

“Oh god,” Tony says with creeping horror. “You’re gonna murder me.”

“No!” Loki’s smile falls and, huh, he actually looks a bit offended. “I just told you I need you alive. Why would I turn around and murder you?”

“I don’t know, but that’s a murder smile if I ever saw one,” Tony points at him, feeling secure with the island between them. 

“Here I am, trying to befriend you and all you do is rebuff my every attempt.” 

“You kidnapped me!” 

“Oh, that was ages ago,” Loki waves a hand dismissively. 

“It was  _ last night _ !” Tony shouts.

“Ah. But! I saved your life in doing so,” Loki points at him. “And that’s what friends do.”

Tony has a weirdest feeling that the end of that sentence is supposed to be  _ Mother says so, _ or  possibly  _ Thor says so. _ His money’s on  _ Mother _  though, with the way Loki is puffing up with a combination of pride and  _ mock me if you dare, mortal.  _

Oh god. What has he gotten himself in to?


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> beta'ed by KassandraScarlett. 
> 
> Whoo boy. two chapters in one week. All the comments just kept pulling me back even though I _should_ be working on Golden Apple Seed. 
> 
> *Grin* I had fun with this one though.

Loki is pleased with the progress he's making with Stark. The man still persists in poking at the doors and windows every time he thinks he's alone but he's made no attempt to eat or drink any of the items Loki has marked as poisonous to him. (Even the ones that obviously aren't actually poisonous, just to see what the man would do when faced with a poisoned box of PopTarts. Stark didn't consume them, in a show of trust that Loki had a good reason to mark them. Theirs is a developing friendship.)

So far, keeping him alive has been a rousing success so Loki feels secure in actually leaving him in the apartment for a short while to further his research.

Stark had made a comment that had sparked his interest and, although he claimed it to be a joke later, it has reminded Loki of the many times people seemed convinced Stark was lost only to have him pop up later.

It is something worth investigating.

 

* * *

“How advanced are your necromancy skills?”

Pepper’s stylus hovers over her tablet. Thankfully Tony has given her enough practice with the unexpected over the years so she Does Not React when she looks up to find Loki lounging in one of her comfortable meeting chairs.

“Excuse me?”

“Your necromancy skills,” he says again.

“Yes,” Pepper calmly sets her stylus down. “That’s what I thought you said. Does this have anything to do with the fact that Tony is currently missing?”

“In a way, yes,” Loki nods. “After I took him, he was quite adamant that you were going to kill him just so you could revive him to kill him again. As you can imagine, that is _quite_ a useful skill to have at your disposal.”

“Ye-es,” Pepper agrees slowly. “I suppose it would be, if _you_ had it at your disposal.”

Tony didn’t make her CEO for her pretty face. He didn’t even make her CEO for her loyalty (although, she admits that likely helped). He made her CEO because she is good at these games too. Convincing someone she’s said something or agreed to something she hasn’t actually.

Implying, for instance, that it is _only_ Loki who does not have access to the ability to revive himself with her (non-existent) necromancy skills.

“Ah, well. I’ve decided Stark and I are friends now. We have not fought side by side but soon we will, that will make us shield brothers,” he informs her. He looks proud of himself. Proud and pleased, good god. “Since you are one of those he considers family, and I must assume the reverse to be true as well, your skills should be available to me if necessary. Excellent!”

“And your skills are available to his friends then?”

“What?” Loki’s eyes narrow at her. He sits up in the chair.

She folds her hands in front of her and leans forward.

“If his family's skills are available to you, through your friendship with him, are your skills available to his family, though his friendship with you?” she enunciates..

“That _is_ -” he seems to hesitate for a moment, blinking, “- how it works?”

“Are you asking me or telling me?”

“Telling.”

“So, if I, Tony’s family, needed assistance that required your skillset you would have to assist me. For Tony.”

“You are trying to lay a trap. It will not work but I will play along with your little game. Yes, so long as I consider Stark my shield brother, it would be disrespectful to leave his family in danger.”

“Excellent. I’ll text Rogers then,” she smirks as she reaches for her phone. “They are currently having a bit of magical trouble.

**_Pepper - > Rogers_**  
_Loki is in my office._

“ _Are_ they?” Loki asks, trying to seem bored but interest clearly piqued.

Pepper hums an agreement.

**_Pepper - >  Rogers_**  
_Hurry. I don’t know how long I can keep him here._

**_Pepper - > Rogers_**  
_Or from stabbing me._

“Yes,” she types as she talks, pretending that one distracts her from the other and making her answer slower. “It’s very awkward for them.”

**_Pepper - > Rogers_**  
_Keeping him from stabbing me is very important, Steve._

“You’re stalling,” he sing-songs, taunting her. “Tell me. Now. Or I go.”

“It seems a magical being has kidnapped a member of their team and refuses to give him back,” she says.

Loki disappears between one blink and the next.

At least he didn’t stab her.

(Presumably because she can just bring herself back from the dead, of all the ridiculous things.)

 

* * *

“I do not believe your Pepper to be a necromancer,” Loki suddenly announces from behind Tony. Right behind him.

The goddamn knife slips and Tony slices his thumb. “ _Shit!_ ”

He shoves it in his mouth and turns around. Only to press himself back against the counter when Loki is standing _right there_.

“Personal space, buddy,” he says, shoving at Loki's chest. It's like pushing a concrete wall until Loki concedes and takes a step back. “What about Pepper?”

“I do not believe she is a necromancer,” Loki squints, leaning forward again as though inspecting Tony's reaction.

“Why-” Tony has to cut himself off to hold back a laugh. It makes Loki's eyes narrow further and Tony has to fight his laugh that much harder. Don't laugh at the bag of cats psychopath, Tony, it's not gonna end well for you. “Why, uh, did we think she was, again?”

“When you thought you were dead you said she was going to revive you just so she could kill you again. It was an interesting thought and they would be skills worth having at our disposal if she had them. Alas I do not believe she does.”

“Nope. She definitely doesn't. We absolutely don't ever have to bother her with anything ever again.” Then, just to make sure he's got his point across, Tony tacks on an extra, “Ever.”

He gives a single decisive nod (point across, good job Tony) and scoots sideways away from Loki's looming figure. As soon as he abandons the cutting board, Loki zeros in on the pineapple he'd been cutting.

“Gross, there's blood on that,” Tony scrunched up his nose. 

“I am not susceptible to your human diseases,” Loki scoffs.

“Well, you're probably susceptible to heavy metal poisoning and there's a tiny amount of palladium floating around in my blood that we never managed to clear out. At least rinse it off, Reindeer Games.”

Loki seems to freeze at this information. “Your blood is tainted?” he asks, a little breathless.

“I mean. _Tainted_ is a pretty strong-”

“Of course, if the blood itself was contaminated it would be impossible to get a sample that wasn't.”

“Yeah, I'm not really liking _contaminated_ much better than-”

“Thank you, Stark. You have been very useful.”

“Aaaand he's gone.” Tony looks down. “And he took my god damn pineapple. Asshole.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta'ed by SuccubusKayko and KassandraScarlett

The idea that Stark’s blood was tainted from within had not occurred to Loki simply because he would have expected the spell to fail or have  _ dire _ consequences if he should ever try. It had simply never occurred to him that such contamination might lead to a  _ beneficial  _ boost of power. 

As Loki chews on the pineapple Stark had thoughtfully been preparing for him, he considers how to move forward. 

Traces of palladium, Stark had said. But how much? Could adding this palladium to the spell remove the requirement for Stark's blood specifically? 

He needs an amount and for that, he needs the ratio in Stark's blood. 

Luckily, the mortals have devised useful little facilities for that. 

(It occurs to him that it would be beneficial to the friendship Loki is trying to foster with Stark if he could supply the main ingredient for his healing spell elsewhere. In Loki's experience, even asking family for blood gets him suspicious glances and outright ‘No’s. Often he has had to trick people or resort to stabbing them. They never seemed to like that but it never occured to any of them he wouldn't have had to do it if they'd just given him the blood in the first place.)

* * *

“Hurry, Steve!” Clint shouts as he rushes past, trips and face plants in his unusual eagerness. Steve grabs the back of his shirt and lifts him to his feet as he passes him. 

“What's happening?” Steve yells to be heard over the blaring alarms. Tony likes to be dramatic, the first few seconds are always loud enough to give a lesser man a heart condition. 

“Loki!” Clints shouts over his shoulder as he diverts for his kit. Steve skids to a stop. 

“Any sign of Tony?” he shouts down the hall but Clint’s ears aren't the best under ideal conditions. The alarm isn't helping. Steve starts running again. 

“Nat says there's a Loki spotting,” Bruce breathes as he rushes into the quinjet hangar. “Is there any sign of Tony?”

“You know as much as I do,” Steve answers. 

“He's at a blood testing center,” Nat says, walking quickly. “No Tony. He appears to be trying to get them to run tests on a glass vial of blood. Presumably human. Hopefully not Tony's.”

She sets down the StarkPad and walks past them onto the jet.

“How likely is it that it's not actually Tony's?” Steve asks, following her onto the jet. Her only response in a doubtful glare. 

“How long do we have to get to him?”

“That largely depends on  _ how long Clint takes to get his ass in here _ ,” she says, pushing the com button the second half of her sentence. 

“I'm here!” Clint skids sideways into the wall trying to slow down. “I'm here! Go!”

* * *

“Um,” Finja blinks at the glass tester tube that has been set on the counter in front of her. “I don’t think we take walkins.”

“I'm certain we can come to an arrangement...” he leans forward and glances at her nametag, “... Finja.”

He smiles widely and pushes the tube towards her with two fingers. 

“Right. No. I get it. Except that it’s company policy not to take blood in random glass test tubes that people walk in with off the street,” she insists. “We have to draw the blood ourselves. ‘Cause, you know, people lie on STD or paternity tests. I saw one woman try to fake a test during a lovers quarrel just to freak out her cheating boyfriend. Most people just shoot a text but she really wanted to go the extra mile.”

“I don't need to know any of that,” his smile widens in a way that she wouldn't have thought possible. “I just need to know the exact chemical makeup of this blood. I have no interest in... STD or paternity tests.”

Finja notices he makes no denial if it being a lovers quarrel. His wide smile suddenly feels a lot more sinister. She can’t really tell what is starting to put her on edge. He’s got nice clothes. He’s well groomed. He smiles in all the right places. But something is screaming at her that something is off with this situation and she’s glad she has the company policy if nothing else to fall back on. 

“Look, ya seem like a standup guy,” she tells him. “But company policy says I can’t take that blood and even if I could... We don’t do the kind of tests it sounds like you want. You need a full chem lab for that. We pretty much just do the STD tests and paternity tests.”

The friendly smile drops from his face into a cold glare in a familiar way that makes her stomach turn. Yeah. She just wishes she could do something to help whoever his partner is. 

Thankfully, that's when the Avengers arrive. 

Less thankfully, creepy blood-guy goes from nice suit to  _ suit of armor _ . 

Finja swallows a scream and hides behind the counter. 

Everyone recognizes that helmet.

* * *

Hulk is a good back up option but he tends to make a bit more mess than most people prefer so Bruce follows the usual pattern with these things and stays with the quinjet while the others rush into fight and call on him when they need him. 

That's why it's a fairly large surprise to him between one blink and the next when he suddenly finds himself in Tony's lab at the Tower. 

“Hm,” he says, looking around. “JARVIS?”

He receives no answer from the AI so Bruce studies his surroundings a little more closely. Is this an illusion or a duplicated environment? 

“I require your assistance with something.”

**Puny God has Tinman.**

_ Yes _

**Hulk smash. Puny God give Tinman back.**

_ That's not going to work right now.  _

**_Smash!_ **

_ No. _

Hulk grumbles angrily at that and stays close to the surface but concedes to let Bruce handle the  _ Puny God.  _

Based on what they were able to gather from the conversation Potts had with Loki and some of the most random, useless check in texts known to man ( _ Asshole stole my pineapple. I don't care if it had blood on it, it was mine and I wanted it _ . What does that even  _ mean _ , Tony?), he doesn't think Tony is in any immediate danger. 

But Bruce has seen what happens when stalkers turn. When the person they put up on a pedestal fails to maintain the golden standard they're being held to. It's bad enough when it's a human, Bruce would really like to get Tony back before they're faced with the consequences of a stalker God of Mischief snapping.

“I'm not helping you with anything. You took Tony,” Bruce crosses his arms defiantly.

“ _ ‘Took Tony,’ _ ” Loki huffs. “Why does everyone keep bringing that up?”

Bruce blinks incredulously, “We keep bringing it up because you still have him.”

“I pity you that you cannot understand how two new friends might retreat from the world to allow that bond to grow. I truly do, Banner.”

With Tony... that was entirely possible. Except those random, useless check ins occasionally mentioned the doors and windows being locked. Bruce knows Tony better than to assume something like that would hold him if he didn't want it to but that doesn't really help the point Bruce wants to make so he ignores it. 

(There's also the fact that magic breaks the rules of the known universe and that  _ does  _ help his point.) 

“If you unlocked the door and let him leave would he?” Bruce asks but Loki doesn't falter the way he expects him to. 

“You're asking the wrong question, Dr. Banner. What's most important is...” Loki pauses, presumably for dramatic effect, the absolute drama queen, “... ‘Would he come  _ back _ ?’” 

**Tinman would find Hulk.**

Bruce narrows his eyes at the god who, as far as he is able to tell, honestly believes he and Tony are the bestest best friends in the world now.

“I want to see him,” Bruce demands. Hulk mumbles happily at getting his Tinman. “I need to have a face to face conversation with him to make sure he's safe.”

“ _ Safe _ ?” Loki snarls at him taking a step forward. “He is safer with me than he ever was with  _ you _ . Did any of you keep him from bleeding out on the pavement? Or poisoning himself in his own  _ kitchen _ ? I was a better friend to him as his enemy than you were as his allies. As his  _ shield brothers _ . What sort of  _ friends _ does that make you?”

“The kind that understand Tony is a grown man and has to make his own decisions,” Bruce replies calmly. Loki hisses as he steps back, conceding.

“You will run the tests I need then I will take you to him,” he says. 

“No. You will take me to him  _ then _ I will run the tests,” Bruce insists. 

“Fine,” Loki accepts grudgingly. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright guys. Per request, a little bit of how the rest of the Avengers are reacting to Tony's _*ahem*_ new friendship ;)
> 
> Also, apparently Loki felt the need to borrow Brucie-bear for a bit. It's borrowing, not kidnapping. It isn't kidnapping if he took Bruce back to his own house, right? _Right?!_
> 
> This is starting to look a lot like a habit *squints*


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> beta'ed by silver drip

Stark looks up in surprise when Loki appears in the apartment. He tries to use jumping to his feet to greet them as a way to hide the communication device he thinks Loki is unaware of. 

“Bruce!” 

“Tony,” Banner replies, clearly relieved. 

“Well!" Loki declares, clapping his hands together and rubbing them. "That was an invigorating conversation! Shall I return you to the Tower now?” 

Both Stark and Banner glare at him and Loki lets the false smile fall off his face. Well, it was worth a try. 

"Do I get a private conversation with him or are you going to hover and observe the entire time?" Banner asks accusingly. 

"Technically, time _alone_ with him wasn't part of the deal but I am a benevolent god," Loki says magnanimously. "I will return in one hour. Or when I get bored."

Loki gets bored very quickly. 

* * *

  


**Hulk found Tinman.**

Bruce decides it's really not worth the argument that no, actually, Hulk was not involved in the locating of _Tinman_ at all. Hulk is entirely too pleased with himself for that to result in anything but disaster. 

_Yes, good job you_ , he thinks only a little sarcastically. 

**Yes. Good job, Hulk.**

"What are you doing here?" Tony asks, grabbing Bruce and dragging him to the living room where they can actually sit. 

"A better question is what are you still doing here, Tony?" Bruce says. "We both know you could get out of here if you wanted to."

Bruce stands up to try the door, annoyed that Tony only watches him and stays comfortably leaning back on the couch. 

Predictably, the door is locked. 

"Well, what about your location. You could triangulate where you are from-"

Tony points to one of the windows. "That window looks out on a beach in Malibu. _That_ window looks out on the heart of London. And _that_ window looks out on the party deck at the Tower. My phone is getting service from cell towers in California, New York, and London. And that's just where they're pointing today. Yesterday, that window looked out what I can only assume was some kind of cabin and instead of London, I was getting service from Alberta. And! Let's be clear, the ones I could have JARVIS locate, he checked out. The one in Idaho --that was the first morning-- was an empty conference room, Malibu was some CEOs office, and obviously this isn't the Tower and none of you saw me when I waved at you so the only conclusion I can draw is that this apartment is somehow existing in three places at once and outside of normal space."

**Tinman likes talking.**

_Yes_.

"Or this is a nice two bedroom apartment and the rest of it is an illusion," Bruce points out. 

But Tony shake his head. "He doesn't know I have the phone and even if he did, what are the chances that he would know the names of the different phone carriers around the world?"

"Have you tried opening them?" Bruce asks, his annoyance building. 

"Locked. Like the door."

" _Breaking_ them?" he demands.

**Hulk smash windows. Bring Tinman home.**

"They don't even crack."

"You're making excuses, Tony!" Bruce snaps, going a bit green around the gills. Tony doesn't even flinch but Bruce immediately starts breathing to calm himself. 

"I mean, kinda. Yeah," Tony agrees with a shrug. "There's something more going on here and I need to know what. I've been sending you updates to let you know I'm alive like a good little Avenger _and_ he's making less of a mess in Central Park. What more could you ask for?"

There are, in fact, a lot of things Bruce could ask for. Before he can respond however, a flash of green from the couch draws his eye. 

Loki lounges across the back of it. 

"I'm bored," he announces like this is some horrible crime that they, personally, have committed against him. Then he looks around and seems to fall into a sulk. "You didn't make me fruit this time."

Bruce can only blink when, natural as you please, Tony responds, "I didn't make you fruit last time either. You just took mine."

"Stark." 

"No," Tony actually looks the other direction and puts his nose in the air. "Ask nicely. And _stop kidnapping people._ "

**Tinman having fun.**

Loki makes a disgusted noise. And rises to his feet. 

**Puny God new friend?**

Bruce doesn't know if Loki is a _friend_ per se, but they obviously deserve each other. 

* * *

  


The blood tests confirm what they all suspected: the blood is definitely Tony's. If the palladium wasn't enough evidence, the DNA markers would be. 

What surprises them though, are the trace amounts of cold medicine Tony had been taking several months before. This sample wasn't collected while Tony has been missing. It was collected long before that. Potentially in several different samplings. 

In a way, Bruce hopes the blood collection was just an early part of whatever obsession Loki currently has going on with Tony because the other option is that Loki has samples of everyone's blood and the results of that could be too horrible to think about. 

He debates screwing with the numbers but he has no idea what Loki intends to do with a chemical breakdown of Tony's blood (' _Specifically the palladium,_ ' he'd said). Bruce can't risk what incorrect numbers could do to Tony. 

He reaches the point of arguing with himself whether he should break his promise and just not give the numbers to Loki at all, regardless of the potential effect on his mood, when the papers disappear in a sparkle of green and the decision is taken out of his hands. 

He picks up the phone to call Steve. 

Steve should know about this. 

All of this.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta'ed by [silver drip](https://archiveofourown.org/users/silver_drip) and [switchknitter](archiveofourown.org/users/switchknitter)

_"I'm afraid the tracker Dr. Banner had on him during the battle showed similar readings as I get from Sir's phone,"_ JARVIS informs the group regretfully. To lose Sir like this, _again_ , even if just for a few days (and unlike last time with occasional contact to indicate he is Just Fine) feels like a brutal failure on his part. 

Perhaps it was never intended to be, but his primary purpose of existence is to take care of Sir. (He certainly never takes care of himself.) How is he meant to do that when Sir keeps running off and _choosing_ to stay with people who do things like _throw him out of windows?_

"Yo! JARVIS!" Mr. Barton shouts in a way that indicates this is not the first time they've asked. 

_"I apologize. I was turning my attention to a new strategy. How can I assist you?"_

"Were you able to get _anything_ new at all from Bruce's visit?" Steve asks. 

_"I'm afraid not. All that Dr. Banner collected had already been provided by Sir when he was able to do so without revealing his phone."_

"That's not true..." Agent Romanoff says thoughtfully. 

Some people may believe JARVIS is incapable of being offended. 

Some people may also find themselves with showers just a few degrees too cold and sheets just a tad too rough. 

"I assure you, Agent Romanoff, I have been over the data provided by both _quite thoroughly_ ," JARVIS replies with a clipped tone. He allows a sound frequency too high for human ears to play through his speakers. It is a frequency he has found makes humans uncomfortable. Without eyes it is, unfortunately, the closest thing he has to a glare. 

"I don't mean the location data," she attempts to soothe him. "I mean there is one piece of information Bruce could get us that Tony never could specifically _because_ he has to hide his phone whenever Loki is present. And that's _how Loki acts towards Tony._ "

JARVIS increases the sound as encouragement to hurry. 

"What's your take on it, Nat?" Mr. Barton asks. 

"I don't think he or Tony realized we've all been wearing monitors in case we managed to spot Loki so I'm fairly certain the reactions were as genuine as they could be considering he would still likely have been putting on a show for Bruce. That being said, Tony didn't appear startled by his behavior. He seemed amused. Playful."

"You think they're fostering a genuine friendship?" Dr. Banner wonders, staring at the screen and replaying the few minutes of interaction he was allowed to watch. 

"It certainly isn't beyond the realm of possibilities," Agent Romanoff replies, waving a hand at the screen where Loki is trying to cut himself some strawberries, but Sir keeps trying to grab them off the cutting board _while Loki is still cutting them_. 

JARVIS has an appreciation for the glare he gives Sir. 

It is a good glare. 

(And Sir deserves it.)

"How often has Thor gone on about how Tony would get on with his _precious baby brother_ if only he weren't so _misguided_ at the moment?" she finishes. 

"What is your recommended course of action?" Captain Rogers asks. 

"See where it goes," she shrugs. "At this point we can't do much else anyway. "

JARVIS greatly dislikes 'see where it goes' mentalities when it comes to Sir's well being, but he is willing to concede that even when there is a plan, Sir will rarely follow it. 

"At least that will possibly be some good news for Thor when he gets back from Asgard," the captain sighs. "Is there any word on that? It didn't take him nearly this long when he went to inform them of Loki's death."

JARVIS understands his concern. Without Mr. Odinson and Sir, they are down two of their 'heavy hitters'. Unless specific emergency protocols are initiated, even JARVIS can't control the suits as he pleases. 

He's working on it though. 

Loki _will_ return Sir. 

* * *

  


Loki stares at the sheet of numbers. The units of measurement are unfamiliar to him but he saw the expression on Banner's face from his unseen position and he'd had to grab the numbers before they could be modified. 

Stark, though. 

Stark is a scientist. He will understand these units. Loki could disguise what the tests are from but it's highly likely that Banner will have told him the tests had been performed. 

(There is also the risk that these units are only used by healers to measure the mortal body and Stark would recognize them anyway.)

No, it's better to build trust now than to be caught in a potentially obvious lie. That way, he'll be less likely to get caught on a lie later, having already proven himself willing to be unnecessarily truthful. 

And it might just do Stark good to feel useful. Everyone deserves the feeling of being useful to Loki occasionally. 

And Loki is kind enough to grant them that feeling. 

He puts the papers in his pocket dimension with a flick of his wrist and makes his way to the main room. Stark is in the process of dismantling the television and Loki understands the annoyance of being interrupted, so he takes a seat on the couch on the opposite side of the coffee table. He rests his elbows on his knees and brings his hands to his mouth in a thoughtful pose. 

"You're staring at me and its creepy," Stark tells him some time after Loki takes the seat across from him. 

"I'm waiting for you to complete your task," Loki informs him. He does not stop his careful studying. Its entertaining. "I'm being respectful of your time."

Mother always said friends should be respectful of one another's time, it was how he knew Sif and the Warriors Three were _Thor's_ friends but not _his_.

Stark looks up at him from the guts of the television, squinting at him with an odd look. His eyes flick down to his work before returning to Loki. He puts down his screwdriver and moves from kneeling over his work to more comfortably seated in the chair.

"I'm at a stopping point, Rock of Ages. What do you need?"

Loki frowns, "Can I not seek you out just for the pleasure of your company?"

"Yeah but you don't," Stark shrugs, waving a hand back and forth in the air. "You tend to pop in to make dramatic declarations or demands then fuck off to who knows where."

Loki's frown deepens. That is poor etiquette on his part, to only appear before a friend when you have need of them. He shall have to correct it. 

"My bedroom," he says. 

Stark gets an amused look and his eyes flick over to the long hallway before coming back to Loki. "Sure," he agrees.

"Unfortunately, in this instance, you are not incorrect. I am in need of your assistance." With a flick of his wrist, he pulls the papers out of his pocket dimension and holds them out. "How much of this material would I require for a vial of blood?"

Stark takes the paper from him. He barely glances at the numbers before he lowers the pages and looks expectantly at Loki.  

"It is a chemical breakdown of your blood," Loki offers, truthful and unbeguiling. Innocent.

"Yeah, I can tell."

 _How?_ Loki wants to ask but he will save that for later. He doesn't want to derail the conversation. He will find out later. "You understand the measurement system, then?"

"Uh-huh," Stark rellies _unhelpfully._

Loki glares at him. Here he is being _so_ generous as to allow Stark a part in discovering what could be an entirely new level of healing spell. One that would, if he ever bothered to share the results with the rest of the magical community, make Loki's name for an entirely different reason. 

(Not that he intends to share this with anyone. You can't have mortal enemies you thought good and dead popping back up without so much as a by your leave. It's just outright rude.)

But for Stark to refuse to assist the intellectual pursuit of knowledge is unfathomable. 

"As my friend, I demand you assist me at once!" Loki insists. Confused and, he'll admit if only to himself, somewhat hurt that he has to push. Why does Stark not simply offer his help with an open hand, as he has seen him do often with his other allies? 

They are friends, yet still Stark withholds from him. 

"Right, that's not how this works, sweetcheeks. Either I'm your friend or I'm someone for you to order about. And let me tell you, there are very specific situations where anyone get to order me about. Except Pepper." Stark pauses so Loki opens his mouth to reply that he can very easily _be_ Pepper, it would be the work of a moment, but Stark hold a finger up and tacks on, " _Which you're not_."

Well, then. 

"I am a prince of two realms! I can order you about if I like!"

Stark runs his tongue along his back molars. It cocks his jaw to the side with a stubborn set. 

"Sure," he agrees surprisingly easily. Something is off with the tone though. His eyes have gone hard and calculating. He leans forward and rests his chin on his head. "You wanna make demands? I thought you were aiming for friends but that's fine. We can make this a business relationship instead."

No. Another thing crumbles before him and Loki doesn't understand why. 

"The other Avengers make demands of you all the time!" Loki shouts, rising to his feet so he towers over Stark. The mortal shifts to lean back in his seat so he doesn't have to crane his neck but makes no move to stand and face Loki. 

"They don't demand," Stark says calmly. "They _ask_."

Loki blinks. He assumes a friendly affect, with a wide smile and a slight laugh, lowering his chin with just a hint of demure submission. "Stark, will you please tell me the measurements needed for a vial of blood? "

Stark studies him silently for a moment. 

"Good enough," he sighs. "I don't know how big your vial is but I can tell you how much you'll need for a liter and we can figure out the math from there."

"Can mortals survive losing that much blood?" Loki asks. 

Stark squints at him, "I think that depends on the method you use to get the blood from them."

"I find stabbing usually works very well. The hole is small enough the blood easily flows into the vial and deep enough that it usually doesn't stop too soon." Loki has found stabbing to be very versatile. But Stark has taken on a screwed up expression that usually means Loki has misstepped somewhere. "You're making a face. Do you disapprove of stabbing?"

"As a method of blood collection? Yes, definitely. Mortals don't tend to do well with the whole shish kabob thing."

"I could stab Thor instead?" Loki offers brightly. "I've stabbed him many times and he mostly doesn't seem to mind. Mortal blood would be better of course but Thor's would work as well since I've used it for this spell before and know the results without the added element."

"Yeah, no. I kinda like Thor. Let's put down the knife, Stabby McKnifeface. They have blood banks; you can just steal a bag of blood."

"If they don't stab people how to they get the blood?" Loki asks, curious. 

"Phlebotomists collect it directly out of the veins with a needle," Stark explains. 

Loki points at him accusingly. 

"You said no stabbing!" he shouts, but he feels the corners of his mouth curl in amusement. 

"Its stabbing on a smaller scale!" Stark tries to sound harsh as he throws up his hands but fails. 

They try to maintain angry glares at each other but soon devolve into laughter.

Loki quite enjoys it. 

* * *

  


It doesn't take watching these people called _Phlebotomists_ for long. 

A bit of seidr and he can easily see the veins he's aiming for. 

"Stabbing on a smaller scale," he whispers to himself as the needle slides in and blood fills the small tube to the machine.

"What was that?" the woman asks. 

"Oh, nothing dear," he says as the disarming old woman he's playing. "You were telling me about how your darling nephew is practically climbing up the walls lately."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Art Time! I made pretties! (I actually made them a while ago, I just forgot to share the links. Oops?)  
> [Stained Glass Loki Helmet](https://www.instagram.com/p/Bx8umc5hNh3/)  
> [Stained Glass Iron Man Helmet](https://www.instagram.com/p/BwfzvobBzmH/)


End file.
